


Waiting For You

by Jennyandthejets



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 09:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13995105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennyandthejets/pseuds/Jennyandthejets
Summary: There comes a day when he wakes and feels nothing.





	Waiting For You

**Author's Note:**

> So this was driven by Matt Martin's lack of ice time and the very adorable snap of Matt & Mitch cuddling. I understand Martin's predicament currently but that doesn't make me feel any less bad for him. But hey, I started writing this and he was getting 0 games. Now, what do ya know? He's got some ice time! I also understand that this first chapter has a distinct lack of cuddling. Just you wait. Chapter two is entitled Angst & Cuddling (not really but... maybe it is now).
> 
> Also, all my pieces get written during downtime at work and rarely get edited. Sorry about that.

There comes a day when he wakes and feels nothing.

A game day.

There are no fewer than twenty texts littered across the front screen of his phone, rooting on the Leafs in an array of slang and emoticons.

They are not wishing him a good game. They don't do that anymore for the very simple reason that Matt Martin is not a Leaf.

Perhaps in title, per his contract, even through the gear he wears while warming benches and keeping track of turnovers. But no, Matt Martin is not a Leaf.

As a Leaf, he should wake up each game day ecstatic for one more opportunity, one more game to play thrilling hockey and prove, without a doubt, who the best team is.

Matt is not a part of that team. The evidence is sound.

And so Matt wakes and feels nothing.

Momentarily considering staying in bed, he questions who could possibly have the power to force him to depart the warmth of his comforter. Even Babs has no power here in the face of the latest 'healthy scratch' lingering alongside his name.

And then Mitch knocks on the door and, fuck it all, if he didn't answer that question in three sharps raps.

Mitch Marner is the team dog that Babs brought home with a ribbon around his neck during the draft a couple years back. The boys had unwrapped that one with glee. An excitable fellow with too much energy, Mitch still had plenty of growing to do. But it was the insatiable hunger that he possessed that had him doing things on the ice that Matt couldn't even begin to imagine doing himself.

Possibly because he wasn't a very good hockey player.

With a shudder, Matt opened the door.

Mitch looked good. There was nothing else to say. Already outfitted in dress pants and a button down—his jacket probably abandoned at the breakfast table or ditched in his room—he should like a child playing dress up. But his hair was slick and his eyes were bright. His sleeves were rolled in a way that would only work on Mitch and he was wearing that expression like it was effortless to be alive.

Matt would have closed the door on anyone else who appeared there wearing that look. But Mitch looked good and Matt's heart had picked up speed, his face flushing a shade of red usually only reserved for good practices on the ice. Such a rouge was foreign now. Leave it to Mitch to bring it to the surface once more, as if the young Leaf stood before him simply to summon color missing from his teammate's cheeks.

He stared a moment too long leaving Mitch to clear his throat.

“Huh?” Matt mumbled, keenly aware that he was still parading in boxers. He'd hidden behind the door at first open for the thought of decency but quickly relented when he'd seen Mitch, revealing himself. There hadn't been much surprise there. Who else wanted to see him?

“Missed you at breakfast,” Mitch announced as he strode into the room, having obviously decided that he was done standing in the hall. Nothing new there. Martin's apartment was apparently fair game all because Mitch had proclaimed it to be so. He sat down on Bozie's bed. Matt, still half asleep, had vaguely listened to his roommate depart age ago. A+ student that one.

Matt rubbed at his eyes, putting Mitch and stupid, nice hair out of view. “It was optional, right?” He was all about team bonding. Bar hopping was his activity of his choice. But it seemed silly nowadays to bond with those who might never play a game of hockey with him again. The thought made his stomach lurch and he quickly moved into the bathroom to throw a cap of mouthwash between his lips. It was easier to focus on the physical burn.

“Yeah, still... better when you're around.”

Unsurprisingly, Mitch had followed Matt into the bathroom. He dropped onto the lid of the toilet and drew a knee to his chest, hands clasped just below his knee. Viewing the boy from the corner of his eye, Matt was reminded how small (for a hockey player) Mitch really was. This game could eat him alive and spit him out if it really wanted to. It was a good thing that league had fallen in love with him. As for Matt...

He spit.

“Brought you this.” Next to he and Tyler's collection of all things bathroom, Mitch deposited a large blueberry onto the counter. It was teeming with fruit, small bursts of blue juice dotted along the dome. Matt's favorite. And proper sustenance when compared to the two red bulls in his bag he had been visualizing as breakfast.

Matt felt like ruffling Mitch's hair in the moment but refrained in fear of coming out more greasy than his showerless morning was already affording him.

“Don't know if I've told you this recently but you're my favorite.” Matt full out winked at his companion and, despite having just gargled Listerine, tore off a piece of the muffin top and popped it in his mouth in one quick motion. He chanced a real glance at Mitch and found his team mate grinning at the floor as he picked at the toilet paper roll. He was blushing. Matt let out a shaky breath and quickly turned back to his own reflection. He focused in on his own personal hygiene care, cleaning off his face in favor of reaching for his toothbrush to have better access to the muffin.

It felt wrong to covet Mitch in the way that Matt did. He felt like a perv most of the time for having feelings for a child. Even when he reminded himself that Mitch was into his twenties, it felt wrong. Mitch was his teammate and clearly very straight even if he was between girlfriends at the moment. Even if all the odds had been in Matt's favor, Mitch was not a person he deserved.

Mitch deserved someone like Auston. Not Auston obviously. Video games had more personality than that walking cactus, god love that boy. But someone like him was perfect. The rising star, general talent and all with the power to be something. Be someone. At Mitch's level. The world wouldn't even know what to do with itself when Mitch hit the ultimate nova of stardom.

“Some of the guys were talking about going out after the game. Win or lose. You think you might want to...?”

Mitch always had a motive. Matt had found that out the hard way when the rookie had first attached him. Or maybe it was the other way around. Whatever it was, he knew better than to invite Mitch into his room without first nailing down his reasons for visiting. Matt leaned over the sink now, sighing, though he'd already foreseen what was coming long before the winger marched into his room and had let him in anyways.

It was an innocent request. Just Mitch wanting to go out with his buds for a night of debauchery whether they were celebrating a great win or trying to drown out a painful loss. And Mitch was entitle to that! Matt would never be the one to tell the team they shouldn't live up to every second of their hockey careers off and on the ice.

That was where they differed. Mitch was flying high, living the dream with a team that loved him and vice versa. Matt wasn't sure how much longer he could say that he had anything close to that. Don't get him wrong, he would die for any other player on that team. Right down to the coaches, trainers, ice girls, and the poor intern that passed out the logo embroidered jocks. He even suspected they would all say the same of him. Minus maybe the latter.

But Matt was trying to have a career here. He wanted to follow in Patty's footsteps and play twenty fucking years of great hockey, if not more! He didn't need to be the best. He just needed the opportunity to keep playing. He wasn't even getting that right now. If the tables turned, then he needed to be ready. And doing anything to compromise his playing chances was out of the question. Even a single night of debauchery.

“I think I'm going to stay in. Maybe hit the gym. You have fun though.” Matt glanced one more look at a disappointed Mitch before exiting the bathroom and beginning to shuck on various pieces of his suit. He heard the boy wander out behind him, kicking at a pile of his dirty clothes. None of them Tyler's of course because that man meticulously folded all of the dirty ones and kept them on the left side of his suitcase. Always the left.

“You said that last time,” Mitch mumbled. He was inching towards the door. Giving up already. Maybe Matt had said no enough times to finally throw him off the case.

Working on his tie, Matt shrugged. “Just think I could use it.”

“Yeah, you say that too.” Matt suspected he wasn't supposed to hear that one as it was under Mitch's breath so, with respect, he ignored it. “I guess I'll see you downstairs?”

“Be down in a bit.” He'd gotten practiced at arriving just as the bus was ready to pull away. Coach didn't seem pleased but was it really problematic if he was left behind anyhow? Matt waved over his shoulder, not wanting to see the expression that matched Mitch's tone. He hated being as much a disappointment to Mitch as he was to the Leafs. Couldn't seem to do anything right as of late.

When the door closed, Matt checked over his shoulder to ensure his companion was really gone. At the confirmation, he crawled back into bed, suit and all. Five more minutes.


End file.
